


waiting for you to come aboard

by Shallott



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, F/M, and Boyd has friends, based on a situation from my deeply pathetic life, it did not end well, unlike this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shallott/pseuds/Shallott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay that didn't really pan out how we planned," Stilinski mutters, flipping to a flurry of scribbles on his legal pad. Boyd leans over, reads the title, and almost chokes. "Did you make a playbook of my not-dating life?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting for you to come aboard

He likes her best when she's reading. As a seventeen year old guy, Boyd fully appreciates the tight jeans, corset tops, and- once, during a brief but glorious afternoon - one of Derek's discarded henleys after a brutal day of training, the mingling smell of Erica and _pack alpha together_ burning deliciously in his nose. Erica reads like a cat, curled into a nest of yellow hair and taut skin over loose muscles, delicately turning old pages with her bone-crushing hands. She brings books to Derek's loft, mostly classic horror, and hides them like a squirrel; Stoker, Stevenson, Harris, Shelley on top of the fridge and tucked in the hole in the wall. 

 

"What the fuck," Isaac muttered when she had stuck her arm into the darkness of the gap and pulled out four tired copies of "The Turn of the Screw". She chucked one at his head and Boyd pulled it out of the air, smoothed down the curling cover. 

"Are we having book club?" Isaac snatched one out of her hands and she scratched at him teasingly, claws out just enough to break the skin. "Bitch," he muttered and sulked off to his room, but Boyd heard the rustle of pages from upstairs. 

"And read chapter one," she shouted after him, smiling up at Boyd with hooded eyes. "I thought it might be nice, you know, pack bonding shit that doesn't involve mud and breaking bones."  

It would have been nice, he thinks now, if it hadn't been interrupted by blind psychopaths and murderous druids hellbent on revenge. With Deucalion dead and Jennifer stripped of her powers by some of Stilinski's hoodoo shit Boyd doesn't want to touch with a ten foot pole, everything felt sharp and too raw, an exposed nerve no one knew how to approach. Isaac half drifted to Scott, Cora still shifting uncertainly around the edges like an impatient shadow, and it was more clear than ever Derek didn't know what the fuck he was doing - and Erica started reading again. 

  

They don't settle into their old ways, but make something new, something with less fear and more sentences. Isaac tries to bridge the gap between Scott and Derek, Cora and Derek spend a day in the loft having a conversation no one asks about, and Boyd goes back to playing lacrosse. He makes friends without fangs, Danny, Greenberg, Chantelle, and they get pizza and watch all the Marvel movies in one go. "You need to get a girlfriend," Chantelle tells him as Chris Evans pants heavily. He blinks and focuses intently on Agent Carter. Chantelle's eyebrows almost rocket off her face in delight.

"Who's the girl?" 

Werewolf or not, she could still kick his ass. "You know Erica, blonde, she's in my chem class?" he trails off and Chantelle smacks his elbow out from under him. 

"Are you guys a thing?"  _  
_

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with that." 

 

"You guys lived in a bank vault together for four months," Isaac pointed out yesterday, spitting sunflower seeds over the couch, narrowly beating out Cora's record. "You can ask her out. It's seriously not that hard."  

"What he said," Cora spat out another seed, pinging it off the window.  

Derek eyed them all from the kitchen, flipping pancakes and keeping Stilinski from eating all the chocolate chips. "Don't do anything stupid."  

Stiles snorted and popped another one in his mouth. "Don't do anything _really_ stupid." 

 

This is really stupid, he thinks and tries to silently walks over to the edge of the armchair Erica's nesting in. She ignores him completely until he gets close enough to bump against the sagging bottom of the chair. "Boyd," she says, flipping a page with utter indifference.  

"Would you wanna go out sometime?" he says in one rushed breath, all the questionable advice Cora gave him about words and elegance amounting to fuck all as he looms over the chair, shifting awkwardly. "Sure, I'm starving. Let's go somewhere," she bounces off the chair, shoving an old Wiley Coyote bookmark to mark her place. "Do you like sushi? Allison's been nagging Scott to take her to Sadako, on Forest but he apparently has this thing about shrimp. Chickenshit."  

She yanks her boots on and fishes the Camaro keys from Derek's jacket. "You ready?" She shoves the loft door open for him and Boyd sighs, just a little bitter, not expecting _neither_ as an answer to a yes-no question. It's not terrible, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth as they slide into the booth, as he chokes on the salt explosion of too much soy sauce, as she discovers the cheapest sushi is not a good idea and he holds her hair back and sort of pats her shoulders to an awkward rhythm.  

 

"You got a werewolf sick on a not-date, dude you suck," Isaac smirks, gleefully horrified at Boyd's all around failure at life. Cora looks mildly more sympathetic and pats his head like an idiot child. "Try flowers," she tries, "Or chocolate. Girls like that sort of thing." 

"Do not tell you're taking dating advice from Stoic McDeadFace," Stilinski yells from the kitchen, cheerfully stirring something dark and disgusting in a plastic mixing bowl. "Girls like chocolate, way to break some new ground there, Dr. Phil." 

"This from the guy who was obsessively interested in the same girl for almost a decade and never got a date," Derek notes, folding a dozen pairs of the same dark jeans. Stiles opens his mouth to say something about Derek's dating history but Cora cuts him off because they all agreed to Not Talk About That.  

"Chocolate," Boyd says, grabbing his wallet. Stilinski gives him a thumbs up. 

 

"Oh my god, you're the best," Erica groans, ripping the Godiva box out of his hands and cramming two overly expensive chocolate things in her mouth, flopping onto her bed. "I've had the worst cramps all day, thank you so much." He must looked absolutely stunned because she rattles the box at him sympathetically. "Want one? Bad day?" 

"You have no idea," he mumbles around a lump of caramel and nougat. She pats the bed and he slides next to her carefully, not wanting to come on too strong. Erica rolls onto his shoulder and promptly falls asleep on him. She snores like a wildebeest and his arm is still numb when he wakes up but it's not horrible. 

 

"Here," Cora shoves a picnic basket at him, complete with red checkered cloth napkins and artfully prepared cupcakes. It's a little intense. "Go do cutesy shit. She'll love it."  

 

"I fucking hate ants," Erica screeches, beating him furiously with napkins. "Why the fuck did you think this would be a good idea?"

 

"Okay that didn't really pan out how we planned," Stilinski mutters, flipping to a flurry of scribbles on his legal pad. Boyd leans over, reads the title, and almost chokes. "Did you make a _playbook_ of my not-dating life?" 

"It's important to have a plan," he says primly, throwing a look to Derek, who profoundly does not give a fuck. "You tried the soft approach, but we _might_ have to step it up. Have you considered sensual massage?" he asks seriously and Boyd really does choke.  

"Not happening," he manages and Stiles crosses out another scribble. Isaac leans over the page, skimming. " 'Devise an elaborate scavenger hunt leading to you, nude on a bed of rose petals'. Stiles who the fuck have you been dating?" 

"I read," Stiles snaps back and Derek goes slightly pink. 

"Take her dancing," Cora throws out, cuffing Derek over the head. "Erica likes to dance."  

Isaac, as usual, has his back. "Boyd can't dance for shit, he'd get a restraining order instead of a date." Stiles crosses out something that looks suspiciously like _mad dance skillz_ and Boyd drops his head against the table.  Fuck Isaac.

"No, no, no," Cora stabs the page with a suspiciously sharp fingernail. "Movie dates suck. You either sit in the dark for two hours and don't talk or you make out for two hours and everyone hates you."  

"Oh, of course _you_ hate movie dates," Stilinski gripes bitterly. "Leave it to Stoic McFunsucker to come up with great date ideas."  

"You're doing that thing where I want to punch you in the face again."  

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try," he starts and they're off. The notebook gets half embedded in Cora's claws and Isaac is shouting and everyone completely misses the clunk of boots stomping up the stairs.  

"I see you're having fun without me," Erica says dryly, kicking off her boots. Cora has a hand around Stilinski's skinny neck and Derek looks ready to kill them all. Isaac leans back against the counter, eyes darting back and forth nervously.  

"Actually Boyd wanted to tell you something," and Cora's hand drops in shock. 

Seriously, _fuck_ Isaac.  

"Uh," he starts, taking a step forward and immediately regretting it as the other three crane their necks at him. Erica raises an eyebrow, staring up at him expectantly. "Well?"  

"Would you go on a date with me," he blurts out. It's like word vomit - disgusting, but his stomach immediately feels better. "Like. Dating. Would you - could we, uh - dating?" 

Erica's face goes completely blank before settling into a blend of furious and confused. "I thought we were already dating."  

It's like she just hit him with a brick made of wolfsbane. "We are?"  

"I thought we were?" The angry is sliding into confused and it's actually making everything worse. 

"You thought we were," he says. It feels like he's drunk. He might actually be drunk. 

"You asked me out, right, like that actually happened? And you brought me chocolate when I had my period and we went on the picnic from hell, I mean, I thought that was a date?"

"It was a date," he tries and it's more of a question than he intended. "Jesus Christ," Isaac whispers to Cora and there's the swift, clear sound of Derek slapping them both.  

"I took you to the place Allison told me about _for dates_. With Scott. Who she is dating. Maybe you're heard about that?"

"But you paid."

She smacks him in the chest and he staggers back a bit. "It's 2013, I can pay for my own fucking date. And if it's cool with you, I'm going to kiss you right now and then we're going on an actual date."

"Ok," he says unthinkingly and she pulls him down by the collar, less of a kiss and more of a tangle of lips and tongue and not too much teeth. It's not the best kiss in the world, but they have a long time to get it right.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently clear communication is a good thing in a relationship. Who knew?


End file.
